A Midnight Visit
by SisterrGrimm
Summary: Graverobber leaves Sanitarium Island one silent night. But how will this calm evening turn out for our grimy Casanova? Gramber?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Stillborn Night

A/N: My first upload! I'll post a chapter at least once a week. This one's pretty short, but I ask humbly that you stay 'till the finish, because a story's length does not determine its merit. As with everyone on this site, I own nothing from Repo! , but the concept of this story is entirely my own. Please review!

It was daylights dying time, the stars peeking shyly out of the darkening sky. One city fell asleep whilst its darker, night-prowling sister took over her post.

And with her this sister city brought her twisted children. Junkies, prostitutes and freaks, pulled out of their rotting hovels only to hide from the moonlight.

One such bastard child was twisted to the point of breakage.

The Graverobber.

The nameless apparition with a glint in his eye and a cleft in his chin and a darkened patch where his soul should sit.

He was their preacher, though at times he was their idol. Slipping smiles and Zydrate to the poor, bleeding masses.

But not tonight.

He would leave this one black canvas untouched by his stroke. Leave-no-give the city one virginal, peaceful night. (Though this sentiment was backwards at best, since his absence would only result in brawling and a different despair)

But no matter, tonight he kept his mood as high as the previous ones clients.

Tonight he would be visiting her.

And while that should cause worry and doubt to spread through him like poison, it gave him no worry at all. (That in itself merited anxiety) The loop could have easily turned into a spiral.

But tonight, he kept his mind as festive as his usual façade.

Arriving at one of the ancient Individual Burial Yards, he made a long series of alternating turns until he reached the rotting card house of a storage shed in the western corner.

Putting even more of a bounce into his enormous step, he reached towards the door. And the joyous, newly birthed babe of an evening was pronounced dead from the womb.

The door to the dilapidated shack was ajar and from its bowels drifted up the sound of weeping. Specifically weeping, not sniveling or whimpering or crying, but soul-crushing despair.

"Shit," he breathed.

Though not particularly articulate, our Graverobber had expressed his current situation quiet accurately.

Why?

Because one does not turn away from the sound of a woman's tears. One does not creep back to ones peddling-alley of choice and hear scalpel sluts purring into ones ears about the lateness of the hour.

One is forced to ride in on a figurative white horse and tap some sad girl ass.

A/N: Thanks for staying 'till the end dear reader! Will our wily protagonist be successful in his attempts? Stay tuned.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Balance

A/N: Thank you for coming back! Another short chapter, but as I said, worth not length. Please enjoy, and review! Also, I should have mentioned this earlier, and apologize for not doing so. This takes place about two weeks after the Opera.

Graverobber rested his fingertips on the door before pushing it open.

The moonlight that he had expected to flood the room did no such things. It stood, shimmering coyly on the other side of the door frame. Now and them a beam crept in, but darted back just as suddenly, as though shocked by the darkness it had entered.

"Amber?" Graverobber called, he couldn't bear to raise his voice, the raspy whisper overpowered by the distraught weeping that filled the shed. But with no light to show the walls or floor, it might as well have been a void. A black hole in Blackhearts country.

"Amber?" he called again, straining his voice beyond a whisper. The noise startled two rats that turned their glowing eyes on him before scurrying off into the gloom. Becoming more and more uneasy, he decided that third time's the charm.

"Amber?"

In response he got a sharp intake of breath from the far corner of the room, them further weeping.

Rolling his eyes and wondering if this sad girl ass was worth taping, Graverobber pulled an enormous needle from his satchel and turned out the door.

Giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the moonlight he had forgotten was waiting for him, Graerobber tossed his bag back into the doorway, and headed purposefully left.

After glancing over a few tombs, he found a steady stream of beetles heading into a mausoleum. Taking the time to step on a few of the glowing insects as he passed, Graverobber was reminded of another sad girl ass that he could be tapping. As he quickly and shamelessly exhumed a body, he found a few scraps of morals and decided that taking advantage of under aged orphans was beneath him.

_You'd like her to be beneath you_, snapped a fragment of his subconscious. But who was it to judge when it had more than its share of unsightly thoughts tucked away in it.

After filling his needle, Graverobber left, leaving the body sprawled on the marble floor. The universe balanced, he killed a few bugs, gave the rest a feast. Musing over the ying-yang-ness of it all, the pale Casanova sauntered back to Juliet's balcony.

A/N: Yeah I know, but Graves was never really one for reading. ;) Review please!


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